


K.I.D.

by ayjee



Series: Dysfunctional yet loving synth family number two [2]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2016-08-07
Packaged: 2018-08-07 05:41:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7702795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayjee/pseuds/ayjee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rainy afternoons call for board games – more behind the scenes at the Red Rocket truck shop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	K.I.D.

Rain, rain, nothing but rain for hours now. Danse wondered if a radiation storm wouldn’t have been preferable to the grey, endless downpour. At least there would’ve been _something_ to observe. Granted, the radiations would cause harm to the dog; Codsworth, the boy and himself would be fine, he supposed.

Silver linings.

If he was honest, he was getting desperate for interactions with an actual adult. Preferably someone who wasn’t Ned. He needed to get out of here, stat, but a rain this heavy might damage the power armor he’d had so much trouble repairing. The minute it stopped, he’d be heading out for Listening Post Bravo; with a bit of luck, it wouldn’t be long until Haylen’s next visit.

Codsworth exclaimed cheerfully in the next room, drowning out the rain’s pitter-patter. “And another one for you, young Shaun!”

“You let me win,” came the boy’s annoyed reply. Danse smirked. Shaun had dug up some board game from one of the office desk’s drawers and convinced Codsworth to play with him. Obviously, he was unimpressed with the robot’s performance; Danse heard him huff loudly over the sound of shuffled objects. Curiosity got the better of him and he stood to take a look at the game.

Shaun was sitting on one of the bar stools, chin in hand, eyes on the chessboard resting between him and the robot. Codsworth put every piece back in its designated place before asking, “Shall we play again?”

“Sure,” Shaun mumbled.

Danse didn’t know much about Mr. Handys, aside from elementary fighting statistics, but he was sure their programming had to include the basics of chess. It just seemed like the kind of useless function pre-war humanity would deem essential in a domestic robot. Yet Codsworth kept making ridiculous mistakes, failed to protect his pieces, and fell in every trap Shaun laid for him. The boy won two more games until Danse gave in and asked, “Do you need backup here, Codsworth?”

“Well, maybe I’m a bit rusty and could use some support,” the robot admitted. “Though I must say, Paladin Danse, I wouldn’t have pegged you for a player of the noble game.”

Danse moved to sit on the stool next to Shaun’s, brows raised in confusion. Chess he associated with long nights aboard the Prydwen (it was either board games, or holotapes on the common terminal), the sting of cheap liquor and too much cigarette smoke. Nothing _noble_ about it. “Whatever you say, Codsworth.”

Then, turning to Shaun, “Your move.”

The boy gave him a curious look and for a second, Danse worried he would start babbling again. But he merely shrugged before turning his attention back to the chessboard. After a moment’s thought, he pushed his queen’s pawn forward two spaces.

Danse cracked his neck. It had been a while since he last played, but surely he could hold his ground against a ten years-old. Even one grown within the confines of a laboratory. First, kick him down a notch, block the pawn’s advance with his king’s knight.

Shaun gave a half-smile as he pushed another pawn forward. When Danse’s hand moved to place a pawn next to his knight, he grinned from ear to ear. “King’s Indian Defence. _Cool_.”

“I see you’re in good hands, young Shaun, so I shall resume my previous activities,” Codsworth commented before exiting the garage through the back door, leaving the two of them alone. Danse glared at the fleeing chromed figure before turning back to Shaun. “No need to get fancy with me.”

The boy blinked. “What? No, King’s Indian Defence is the actual name of that opening,” he explained as he placed his queen’s knight in front of the pawns’ line.

Danse’s mouth fell open. “You’re telling me game moves have names?”

“Well… yes,” Shaun said. Again with that not-quite-smile that looked so much like Ned’s. “Where did you learn to play chess?”

Danse snorted. “Not in a book.”

“Then where?”

The worse thing about children, he decided, was their immunity to sarcasm. “In the army,” he sighed, pushing his king’s bishop in the space left by the knight.

Shaun nodded, as if that did explain a lot. He examined the chessboard with narrowed eyes, thinking about his next move, then settled on pushing his king’s pawn forward. “I learned by reading pre-war treaties. Some were centuries old, they read so funny. It’s like people didn’t know how to write back then.”

“Somehow I doubt that,“ Danse smirked. The boy seemed intent on occupying the center of the chessboard; let him do so for now. Put him at ease with a humble move. Queen’s pawn forward one space. "Centuries old? That’s one impressive library.” He ignored the voice at the back of his mind, calling him a traitor for using anything but derogative terms about the Institute.

“Oh, yes. Tons of holotapes, about… everything. I used to borrow a pile and go through it instead of sleeping. Father said it was _detrimental_ to my health and cut the power in my room.” Shaun grimaced at the thought. “I was so mad. I loved reading… I think.”

“You think?”

Shaun’s hand stilled on his queen’s knight. “I’m not so sure anymore. I see myself reading on a terminal, but it’s not one I remember ever seeing in the Institute. I know I played chess with a scientist, several times, but I never saw her again after that. Do you have memories of your childhood?”

The sudden switch of topic took Danse off-guard. “Nothing substential until my late teens. Just flashes of scavenging through the ruins.“ Now seemed like the perfect time to castle, so he did. If only deflecting the boy’s questions was as easy as shuffling pieces.

"And after that?”

“I made a friend.” He hadn’t thought about Cutler in a while and found the memory wasn’t as painful as it used to be. “We scraped by until we joined the Brotherhood.”

“What happened to him?”

“He died.”

“But how can you tell this is real, and not a programmed recollection?”

_Because other people knew him, and while I can’t trust my memories, I believe in the Brotherhood’s records._ Too long, and Danse didn’t feel like sharing the story about Cutler’s holotags. Too private. “I can’t.”

Shaun met his gaze and nodded slowly. “I think i know what you mean,” he said.

They played in silence after that. Danse kept his mind on the game, or strived to. The boy wasn’t his responsibility. Ned had left him in Codsworth’s care. It was bad enough that they had to live with one another; even worse that he couldn’t help feeling _some sort_ of misguided sympathy for Shaun.

What it said about how low he’d fallen since the Brotherhood had thrown him out, he refused to think about.


End file.
